


Wasted in War

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [62]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Naked Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 23:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11390430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: Renji and Byakuya's afternoon delight is interrupted by the arrival of a Hell Butterfly.  The news it brings is... entertaining.





	Wasted in War

Tucking his arms behind his head, Renji lay back, resting against a low mound of hay. He thought the stiff stalks would be poky and stiff, but they broke easily against his skin and felt almost silky and slippery. 

Byakuya settled beside him, propped up on one elbow. As though drawn automatically, Byakuya’s fingertips began to slowly trace the lines of ink on Renji’s abdomen. Goosebumps rose at the touch, shivering skin awoke, nipples stiffening in anticipation.

Especially as fingers traced ever downward.

Best tattoos he’d ever gotten, Renji mused. Though, maybe if he wanted Byakuya to give more attention to a certain area, he should consider tattooing his cock. He already did his ass, after all. But, man, that must hurt--

“You have that fierce face on,” Byakuya asked. “What are you thinking?”

Renji chuckled. “I’m thinking about getting ink on my dick.”

Byakuya’s thin, sculpted eyebrows shot up. “Indeed? That’s… possible?”

“Well, sure, you can put ink anywhere there’s skin,” Renji pointed out. Then, seeing the expression on Byakuya’s face, Renji had to add, “Heh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I think it could satisfy a lot of my… interests.”

“Right, because it would hurt. A fucking lot,” Renji muttered. But now there was an idea. Letting Byakuya watch something as excruciating as that? It really would kill a bunch of birds with one needle, wouldn’t it? “Yeah, okay,” Renji said, musing out loud, “But, let’s do it in the human world. I’m thinking the traditional method would take forever and, yeah, just no. It’s one thing when it’s for Zabimaru, this would be just for us. And, anyway, I’ve always kind of wanted to get ink from one of those parlors with their electric needles.”

“Really?” Byakuya sounded almost breathless at the idea.

“Yeah,” Renji said, his resolve hardening. “Especially if you pay as much attention to that ink as you do the rest.”

“Oh, Renji, if you tattooed that, I would promise to trace those lines with my tongue.” So many pictures flooded into his fevered imagination that Renji was pretty sure his brain short-circuited. His mouth must have been hanging wide open, because Byakuya bent to capture it up in a kiss. A deep chuckle rumbled against Renji’s lips as Byakuya pulled away to kiss his nose and say, “So, you see: my predilections aren’t without reward.”

Renji just nodded stupidly. “So, yeah, you wanted to fuck me? I’m super ready for that.”

Byakuya made an appreciative noise and lowered his head, tongue out, as though ready to start tracing the existing lines on Renji’s chest, when a butterfly appeared between them. 

It’s darkly pearlescent wings bapped Byakuya on the nose. “What? What is this nonsense? Why are we being interrupted?”

The butterfly apparently took Byakuya’s strangled frustration as a go-ahead and began to speak. “The Lady Hirako Kuchiki requests Captain Kuchiki’s immediate reply to the following:” The voice shifted to that of a young woman, who sounded like she was speaking through clenched teeth, “Imagine my surprise, dearest honorable cousin, to discover Shinabo alive and uninjured. I do believe you have called me away from my Academy studies under... False. Pretences.” Each word was punctuated so hard, Renji almost felt them like physical blows. ”Why would you do that, oh honorable cousin? Also, your staff seems to be under the impression that you are off dilly-dallying with some young thing and can’t be disturbed. Well. One of the first things I learned in Kidō class is how to conjure a communication butterfly, so I did, and now your little afternoon delight is spoiled just like my life. I hope she hates you and breaks up with you and aaaaaaahhhhhh!”

Renji blinked. He’d never heard a Kuchiki become inarticulate with rage. In fact, most of them seemed to go silent when they were mad. “You sure she’s related to you?”

“Quite certain.” Byakuya’s lips were very thin and Renji figured he’d have melted that butterfly with the heat in his eyes if he could’ve. “The women of the Kuchiki clan with be the death of me, I swear.”

#

Byakuya had hoped that Hirako’s fury would be dissipated somewhat by the time he was dressed in a fresh shikakushō, but she was pacing the small antechamber like a trapped jaguar muttering angrily to herself and gesticulating wildly.

Academy was a poor influence. She hardly seemed like a Kuchiki lady at all. Though… she did remind him of a certain someone at that age, which might be why he snapped: “Have you lost all sense of decorum?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Hirako spun around and jabbed a finger rudely at Byakuya’s chest. Her hair was cut shorter than when Byakuya had last seen her. Her dark locks had been shorn into a pixie cut that framed her narrow, regal face attractively--though with that stern expression, she reminded him somewhat uncomfortably of Captain Kyrōku’s busybody lieutenant, Ise, was it? She wore Academy red, though she had a fully-formed zanpakutō at her side. It was a small lady’s dagger, its hilt barely visible above her obi, but its presence electrified the room. “You lied, Bya-chan. LIED. I dropped everything when I thought Shinobu was injured. Every-damn-thing. Do you even know what I’m missing right now?”

Byakuya ignored her rude language and walked over to the low table where Eishirō had laid out tea. It was probably cold by now, but Byakuya settled into seiza and checked the heat of the pot. Well, if the tea had been steeping this long, it was no doubt strong. He poured himself a cup, slowly, deliberately, acutely aware of how much his deliberation must annoy her. “Tell me, cousin Hirako, from what have I kept you?”

“My first physics course ever! It started three hours ago and I have been waiting my whole life for science. My whole-blessed-life.”

Byakuya frowned a little at his reflection in the tea. What was with all of this language? Even at his most temperamental, Byakuya had used formal, proper words. The casual ease with which she sputtered this common vernacular made Byakuya wonder just who Hirako was rubbing shoulders with these days. “Are you not being tutored? Are you suggesting that you’re attending regular Academy classes...with commoners?”

Glancing up just in time, Byakuya saw Hirako’s eyes go wide and her hand fly up to cover her mouth. “Um, well…” she sank down to her knees across from him, suddenly contrite. “Yes...?”

Byakuya said nothing, because he wasn’t sure how he felt about this confession. He himself had hated the constriction of being at Academy--so close to the action, but cloistered from all the other students. If it had not been for the boisterous Isshin Shiba--a True First, like himself--Byakuya would have interacted with no one besides his tutors. In many ways, Byakuya had Isshin to thank for Hisana. Byakuya would never have gone over the wall and into the Rukongai without Isshin’s prodding and cajoling. Heavens know, Byakuya would never have gone into a tea house if he hadn’t been so drunk and all but pushed in by a confident, overbearing senpai.

“Science isn’t like fighting,” Hirako said quietly. “It has to be experienced with like-minds. Study groups that puzzle into the night with a lot of strong coffee!”

“Coffee? The Academy imports coffee?” 

Hirako smiled slyly, almost devilishly, as she leaned across the low table. “Oh Bya-chan, you’d love coffee! They come in these cute little cans.”

“I have seen them,” Byakuya sniffed. “But, I’m afraid you can’t go back. Not for a little while, at least until--”

“NOT GO BACK?” Hirako’s tiny fists banged on the tea table so hard that the pottery clattered. The force of her shout--or possibly the echoing reiatsu blast--ruffled Byakuya’s hair.

“Control yourself, Kuchiki,” Byakuya warned. 

“No!” Hirako shot to her feet. “No! I have to go back. Academy is everything to me.” She clutched her zanpakutō and for a moment Byakuya thought she would be foolish enough to draw it. But, instead, she continued to hold it, like she was trying to protect it from being taken, and moaned piteously. “I’ll die.”

Byakuya pinched the bridge of his nose and resisted muttering ‘teenagers’ under his breath. Instead, he pulled himself to his full height and let his own spiritual pressure fill the room. “This is not up for debate. Your father has started a clan war. You are my hostage.”

“Hostage?” she gasped. “But, that’s…”

A lifetime, Byakuya knew. “We will see to your continued education.”

“How?” Hirako’s face crumbled. She seemed ready to sob, and Byakuya found he disliked that desperate sound much more than he had her uncontrolled anger.

“Perhaps we can make arrangements with the Twelfth Division. It is fortunate you’ve achieved shikai already; perhaps you can simply be graduated and given a commission.”

She sank to her knees again, like she was folding in on herself. “I wanted to study. It’s all I ever wanted.”

Byakuya had to suck in a deep breath. This was why he’d lied. He liked Hirako, he felt keenly sympathetic to her cause. Had she made these pleas from Academy, she would have broken Byakuya’s resolve. No doubt her father had gambled on that fact. “We will surround you with the finest minds,” Byakuya said quietly, regretfully, but with determination. “No Kuchiki will be wasted for war.”

She just sobbed like she didn’t believe him. 

He knelt down and put a gentle hand on her shaking back. “I promise.”

With lightning reflexes, she grabbed his hand and crushed his fingers in a powerful grip. “On your parents grave? Do you swear it, Byakuya Kuchiki?”

“Not on my parents grave,” he said solemnly. “For those promises have already been broken. I swear it on my wife’s grave. She would not stand to see another woman abused for the needs of the clan. I swear it on Hisana’s memory.”

Her eyes became skeptical again. “Is that worth anything now that you’ve replaced her?”

Byakuya’s anger rose so sharply the floor shook. He released her hand with a violent shake and stood up and turned his back. “Do not presume. If you refuse my solemn vow, then so be it.”

“No! No, I’ll take it!”

“Very wise,” Byakuya said as he swept from the room.

#

Renji spent much of the day catching up on division work he’d been neglecting. It still kind of freaked him out that he had the authority to sign off on so much as Acting-Captain, but he was getting the hang of it. Budgets, however? Those were still way out of his league. In fact, he was still struggling with the basics of Division accounting when a desperate sounding knock came from the doorway. The lieutenant’s office door was always open, since it was a shared space, and most of the soldiers understood they had permission to approach Renji at any time, provided an interruption was warranted. So, he glanced up curiously to see Eishirō standing at the threshold.

Nanako’s head popped up from her paperwork to give the steward a curious stare too.

Eishirō seemed uncertain about whether to enter while Renji sat, so Renji slowly stood up and gestured towards the Western-style chair in front of his desk. “Heya, Eishirō, whatcha doing on this side of the wall? Especially so close to dinner time?” When Eishirō continued to cling to the doorway, Renji started to get nervous. He found himself coming out from behind his desk. “Is everything okay? Is Byakuya all right? Nothing happened, did it?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I… that is, I’d like you to come to the estate for dinner.”

Renji instantly perked up at the wording. “You would?”

As if suddenly unable to keep himself upright, Eishirō collapsed onto his knees, pressing his forehead to the floor. Nanako lept to her feet in surprise. Renji’s hands went up, as though to ward off all this effusiveness--people didn’t beg him like this, it was...uncomfortable. But before Renji could ask what prompted this, Eishirō said, “Please, Lieutenant. I know it’s not my place to invite you to my lord’s table, but something must be done! A reasoned head must prevail.”

“Whoa, you’re calling me the reasonable one?” Renji glanced at Nanako to see if she’d interpreted that the same way. She just gave him a wide-eyed shrug.

Eishirō ignored them and continued, “Please, Master Abarai. Maybe, at the very least, the Kuchiki will put on company manners for you.”

Renji frowned in the direction of the estate. “What the hell is going on up there? Is this about the cousin, Lady Hirako?”

“Quite,” Eishirō agreed. “If you agree, I will brief you on the full situation on our way.”

Renji knelt down to help Eishirō to his feet, “Yeah, yeah, of course. Jeez, you’re giving me a heartattack. I thought something dire had happened.”

“Something dire has happened,” Eishirō said taking Renji’s hand and looking him directly in the eye. “Lord Kuchiki is agreeing with Lady Masama.”

#

Despite his promise, Eishirō didn’t open up until they were nearly to the estate grounds. To be fair to him, Eishirō seemed deeply uncomfortable surrounded by armed shinigami. He kept his eyes on the ground and his head bowed. Plus, his Kuchiki servant blues turned a lot of heads and, seeing Renji hurrying along beside him, caused a trail of whispers to blossom in their wake.

Once through the gates, Eishirō’s shoulders seemed to relax. His head came up sharply, as though instantly coming into his authority on his home turf. Renji, meanwhile, didn’t have quite the opposite feeling he once did, but he always took in a little breath every time he crossed over into the estate and had to resist smoothing out a uniform he knew was dust-stained and ragged.

“The cousin must have said something,” Eishirō said without preamble, as if they’d been talking the whole time. “I don’t know what it could have been, but Lord Kuchiki has been rumbling through the estate, his spiritual pressure spiking at odd times. I’ve had several staff fainting.”

“And what about Aunt Masama? Has she got something to do with Byakuya’s bad mood?” Renji wondered.

Eishirō stopped suddenly in his tracks and turned to look up into Renji’s face. “It’s so odd, Lieutenant. I feel as though we’ve slipped into an alternate universe. If anything, Lord Kuchiki seems to calm down around his lady aunt. Worse, they seem to be colluding about something--I suspect something to do with Lady Hirako, against whom they seem to be allied in some fashion.”

The only thing Renji could figure was that Auntie Massey had as much reason to want to put an end to the clanwar as Byakuya. Hirako was a common problem, since she was clearly not happy about being yanked from Academy. None of this explained the explosions of reiatsu that Renji could feel from here. He stopped in the garden and lifted his nose as if to taste the scent of Byakuya’s spiritual pressure. Like most shinigami, he mostly experienced spirit ribbons visually, but every so often he caught something akin to an odor. 

This time, Byakuya’s smelled of…

He glanced around the spring garden, the tender shoots of lilies and….

...the uncurling of plum blossoms.

“Fuck,” Renji let out a breath. “It’s Hisana. The anniversary must be--”

“Tomorrow,” Eishirō interrupted excitedly as he came to the same conclusion. “Of course! How could I have been so stupid? But, I still don’t understand, Master Abarai. How is any of this related?”

Renji shook his head in bewilderment. “Hopefully, I’ll find out.”

#

If anyone was surprised by Renji’s arrival, they didn’t show it. The table, however, was already crowded. Byakuya and Masama sat oppose each other and Shinobu and Hirako took up the other sides. Eishirō very deftly set a place for Renji beside Byakuya. 

Masama caught Renji’s eye as he settled down, the waves of her disapproval hit him almost like reiatsu. Hirako looked at Renji and then at Byakuya. Her brow furrowed curiously. Setting down her bowl of miso, she gave Renji a little bow, “Does the manor’s lord have a new... “ she seemed to search for the appropriate word and then settled on, “... _haiguusha?_ ”

Aunt Masama choked on her soup.

Even Renji nearly fumbled his chopsticks. 

But Byakuya merely nodded. Giving a pointed look at Masama, who was still coughing into her sleeve, he added, “Just so. Please treat Renji with the respect you would my spouse.”

“You can’t be serious, Bya-chan,” Masama sniffed. “What was your house steward thinking, setting that…” her lips curled, as if straining not to say something else, “...person by your side, like an equal?”

Byakuya turned his attention fully to Hirako. “Renji, this is my cousin Hirako Kuchiki. Hirako, let me introduce Renji Abarai, Lieutenant of the Sixth Division, and my _tamashii no hanryo_.”

_ Soulmate. _

Renji was pretty sure his face was bright red. Certainly, all the moisture in his mouth had evaporated and all he could do was bow, wave a little awkwardly, and grunt out a, “Hey.”

That made Hirako smile as though she found Renji’s nervousness adorable, “This is such good news, Byakuya! Is there something formal that you can do? Um, I mean can two men get marr--”

“No!” Masama burst out. “Absolutely, they can not.”

“Actually, in the Human World--,” Byakuya started.

Once again, Masama interrupted, “Nothing in the human world is legally binding here. There are no noble houses that would ever accept such an abhorrent arrangement.”

“That’s just not true on any account,” Shinobu piped up. “My uncle is absolutely the same as married to Ukitake. We had a big to-do when they signed all the papers to connect our families. Jūshiro’s name was added to our family rolls. Uncle Shunsui and our whole family have legally agreed to take responsibility for Jūshiro’s siblings, if something should happen to him. Why wouldn’t we? As Shunsui’s chosen partner, married in the traditional way, or not, Jūshiro is family.”

Under the table, Byakuya gave Renji’s thigh a squeeze, as if to say brace yourself.

“But Jūshiro Ukitake is noble,” Masama pointed out, as if that was all that was needed to be said.

Renji noticed Hirako taking another look at him. Like, what was she expecting to suddenly see? She couldn’t have guessed from first glance that he wasn’t a blue blood? When their eyes met, he gave her a little shrug and pointed to his nose: “Inuzuri.”

“Like Hisana?” Hirako directed the question at her cousin.

Now it was Byakuya who almost choked on his sake. After taking a moment to compose himself, Byakuya nodded, “By chance, not design.”

Masama harrumphed.

“Why is blood so important to this clan, anyway?” Shinobu asked, casually. “Rumor has it, that ryoka who blew everything to smithereens a few months ago is Shiba--and they’re, well, they’re not hung up on all that are they? Meanwhile, from what I understand, it’s rare for Kuchiki to achieve bankai---”

Renji felt Byakuya’s hackles rising. He raised a hand for Shinobu to stop. “Hey now, I don’t think this is appropriate dinner table conversation, do you?”

“It’s all right, Renji,” Byakuya said. “It is true, after all. Ichigo Kurosaki defeated the strongest of us easily. And there is history here that the young clan head should learn." He turned to Shinobu. "The Shiba were always outliers among the True First. They refused to build an estate inside the Seireitei, back during the time of the great building, when the first walls were erected and the Court of Pure Souls was founded. The Shiba clan head resisted what she called the Unholy Division, and vowed that her clan would always remain ‘at-large’ in what became the Rukongai. Keep in mind,” Byakuya continued, “That our estate wall once formed the very edge of the Seireitei. Much of its expansion was the work of the Shiba. Their clan are bridge builders both functionally and metaphorically. At least until their disgrace.”

“Good riddance,” Masama said. 

Renji listened to all this with his mouth hanging open. “I kinda thought you hated Ichigo.”

A wan smile flashed across Byakuya’s lips. “I rather do. However, it seems that our Rukia may have designs on the young Kurosaki. If so, their alliance would prove… complicated, given how my family,” Byakuya spared Masama a withering glance, “feels about Rukia. I have been doing some research into the archives. Much of this tension could be remedied, if I could find a way to reinstate the Shiba as True First.”

Renji grimaced a little, “Ain’t you forgetting that Ichigo is human?”

“At the moment,” Byakuya gave Renji a knowing look. “Do you truly think we’ve seen the last of that boy?”

Renji wasn’t sure what to say. Of course Renji hated the thought of Ichigo powerless forever and maybe not even recognizing any of them once he came through the natural way, but Urahara seemed pretty convinced that Ichigo’s powers were gone for good and Urahara was pretty good at all that science-y stuff. 

“You are truly insane, nephew,” Masama pronounced. 

The second course arrived. There was grilled mackerel, rice, _sunomono_ \--a cucumber salad, and _nikujaga_ \--a meat and potato soup. No one said anything other than grace over the meal for a while. Renji would have reached to serve, but Hirako beat him to it, and so he played the part of spouse and put the mackerel he’d grabbed onto Byakuya’s plate. Byakuya poured him more sake. It was all very surreal, even though it was totally what they would do if they were alone. Masama turned a deeper shade of purple with every intimate food gesture.

Trying to ignore the evil glares from across the table, Renji frowned. The current dynamic was nothing like Eishirō talked about, in fact, it was like always, with Masama hating on him and Byakuya and--

Oh.

That’s why Eishirō had been so apologetic. He didn’t think Renji was gonna bring some kind of cooler head to the table; he’d intentionally put Renji back in the crosshairs.

Renji glanced over at the servant’s door, trying to send laser beams at wherever Eishirō was, back behind the scenes, orchestrating everything about this meal.

“I don’t understand why the Shiba fell in the first place,” Shinobu said. “When Shihōin broke the law, only its head was exiled.”

Byakuya nodded thoughtfully. “I’m not sure Central ever actually ruled on Yoruichi herself. I would have to check the records. I believe her exile was self-imposed.” Renji detected a note of sadness in Byakuya’s voice. “Much like Isshin’s. Regardless, Central 46 does not have the power to de-invest a clan of the True First, only a unanimous vote from a council of the True First can do that.”

As Renji chewed on a potato, he considered the fact that he probably should have paid more attention when all the stuff with Captain Shiba was going down. He’d been far too busy trying not to get killed in the Eleventh and, at the time, he didn’t much figure nobles squabbling amongst themselves had much to do with him. It was interesting to consider the fact that Byakuya was probably part of that council that divested the Shiba of its claim to True First-ness, or whatever you’d call it. 

“One of the only times you have ever behaved as a true Kuchiki,” Masama said. She hadn’t eaten anything, but instead clutched one chopstick in each fist like a child.

“To my deepest regret,” Byakuya agreed with a nod. “My only comfort is that I had it on good authority that Isshin Shiba could care less for his title and that, in fact, he would be relieved to be rid of it. You will note they made no appeal either public, nor private. The True First council failed to punish them in any way for their transgression; they were more than happy to be shot of us.”

“They never fit,” Masama agreed.

“Quite so,” Byakuya gave her a nod. “Yet it remains a great loss in my estimation. You know what realms they are entrusted with, Lady Aunt. Can you truly say we made a wise decision that day?”

She finally adjusted her chopsticks to take a bite of mackerel. With a roll of her eye, she sighed, “The Soul King is immutable and impenetrable. The Royal Guard keeps the Soul King safe. The highway between our realms needs no guardians. It was a useless job from the very beginning.”

“Perhaps,” Byakuya conceded quietly.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back... sort of? Fingers crossed that this lasts.


End file.
